The Waiting
by DTroi57
Summary: Deanna's mother is dead...and she's waiting for something to help her deal with her grief.


"The Waiting" 

By: DTroi57

3/98 

The salt air whipping up the deserted stretch of beach was raw, and damp. It had been falling for nearly three days. Not actual rain, but a heavy, dense drizzle. The type of drizzle that soaks anything left exposed, in minutes. The air was heavy and the mist fell as a moving, undulating gray curtain. The sand at the water's edge was littered with the discards of the sea's passage. Broken shells, sea creatures and sea kelp lay in tattered heaps along the edge of the surf. Sea birds wheeled about in the air overhead, their raucous cries faint in the pounding of the surf. A low, well appointed beach house graced the dunes that rose above the beach. It's elegant facade a fitting backdrop for the lone figured huddled atop a driftwood log on the sand. Waving grasses, laid low by the heaviness of the air, allowed the occupants of the beach house to witness the vigil of the beach's solitary visitor. 

"It's been three days, now Jean Luc. She's spent most of that time, right where she is now. Beverly Crusher turned from the window, where she had been watching her best friend's lonely watch. 

"I know, Beverly, but she's suffered a terrible loss, and Deanna has always been a very private person. She needs time to grieve in her own way. You of all people should know that." 

Jean Luc Picard turned to his wife of eight months, and cupped her cheek. "You know how hard it is to lose someone that you love." 

"Yes, I do. But that's just it. She isn't grieving. She hasn't shed a tear or talked about her mother at all in the three days since the funeral. She didn't even cry at the service. I'm telling you Jean Luc, this isn't Deanna...she's a very emotional woman. I'm worried." 

Beverly Picard turned back to see that her friend hadn't moved . "It's not healthy, it's as if she's holding it all in...not allowing any emotion to show." Beverly finished putting the lunch dishes in the reprocessor. "She's not eating either...or sleeping. I came down this morning at 03:00 hours and she was standing at the window, in her bathrobe. I have a feeling that she's been there every morning since we got here, Jean Luc. She's going to make herself ill. She's watching and waiting for..." 

"God Good God, Beverly! What could she be waiting for? Everyone who was close to her or Lwaxana is here." 

"No, Jean Luc, not everyone is here. She's waiting for..." 

He looked over at Beverly, 

"Oh no...you don't mean that she's waiting for Will!?" 

Beverly nodded her head... "I'm afraid so...she's convinced herself that he's coming, and that she can't leave here until he arrives." 

Jean Luc moved to stand beside Beverly at the window. 

"But no one has been able to contact him. His ship has been in deep space for nearly a year. A message would take better than three months to reach him. It's not possible, I sent one personally just five days ago. It hasn't..." 

"I know that Jean Luc, and deep inside, Troi knows it too. I think that she just can't face the fact that she 

is alone." 

"Alone? I don't understand. What do you mean "alone"?" Jean Luc went to sit at the breakfast bar, patting the stool beside him. "Come, sit down, explain what it is that you meant by, "alone"." 

Beverly sat beside him, and sipped the cold remains of her tea. 

"Deanna has no surviving family Jean Luc. With Lwaxana's death, Deanna is now the head of the Fifth House, and is alone." 

Jean Luc turned from his wife's sad expression, and looked out the window. Deanna sat in much the same position as when he'd last looked. 

"You know, I hadn't considered that...she's must be feeling very isolated right now. I'll go out and see if I can convince her to come inside. It's nasty out there, I don't want her to become ill." 

Beverly pulled a heavy anorak off of the coat rack, beside the back door. She handed it to her husband, suddenly pulling him into a hard hug. he immediately returned it...then pulled back, looking into her too bright eyes. 

"What?" Jean Luc asked, concerned about the rapid change in Beverly's mood. "Are you all right?" He asked, as he regarded her face, which had become tense with emotion. 

"I'm fine, physically, love. I'm just a little emotional, lately." She smiled at him through misty eyes. 

He returned the smile, pulling her to him again, his hand slipping between them to caress her abdomen. 

Beverly shook her head... "No, not yet...the time just isn't right. I don't know how she'll react, or feel about it right now. Maybe in a few days." 

Picard kissed Beverly lightly and tugged the anorak over his head. 

"Wish me luck, I'm not sure what to say...she's the counselor. I'm not comfortable in this role, never have been." 

"Good luck, I hope that she'll listen to you. I've tried four times today, and the response is always the same. "I can't, I'm waiting." I explained that the message hadn't reached him...but she insists that he'll know that she needs him, and that he'll be here." Beverly's eyes filled... "It's so sad. She's been through so much since Will left for the "Discovery". She was pretty torn up when he left, she'd thought that they were finally getting to the point where they could get together. Did I tell you that she'd cried herself to sleep on my sofa, the night that Will left?" Jean Luc nodded. "Deanna was having difficulty adjusting to Will's absence, so Lwaxana getting sick gave her a reason to leave the ship for a while. Her mother's death so soon after she'd returned home to the Enterprise was such a shock for her. Please try to get her to listen to reason." 

Jean Luc hugged his wife again, trying to think of a way to comfort her , and found nothing. 

"Well, I'll try. Do you have her coat as well? I can at least give her something dry to wear if she won't come in." 

Beverly handed Jean Luc, Deanna's coat. It was a long, dark brown bushman's coat, that Will had given to her years before. 

"Here take this one, it's waterproof and warm." He took the coat and a thermos of black coffee...and headed out the back door. The air was leaden with moisture, the mist so dense, it had become tangible. A chill shivered down his spine as he traveled the well worn path down to the beach. He continued along the sandy path until he was just a few feet from where Deanna sat on the driftwood log. 

"Hello Deanna." He smiled as she turned slightly to see him. 

"Hello Captain." Deanna turned back to the sea. 

"Beverly sent me out here with this." He held up the coat and thermos. "She's worried that you'll make yourself ill, sitting out here in the rain." Jean Luc moved to stand behind her. "Just stand for a moment and I'll help you into it." 

Deanna sighed... 

"Really sir, I'm fine. Tell Beverly not to worry. I grew up here remember? I've spent many spring days and evenings sitting right here in the rain. Beverly is beginning to sound just like my..." Deanna's voice trailed off. 

"Like your mother, Deanna?" Troi nodded. Picard laid a gentle hand on Troi's shoulder. "I'm sorry Deanna, I know you're in pain and want to be alone, but at least come inside. It's pretty chilly out here." 

"Thank you for your concern, but I can't. I have to wait." 

"Deanna, Will isn't coming. The "Discovery" is just too far out. He's too..." 

"He'll come. You don't understand. He knows, and he'll be here. Please, Jean Luc, try to understand. I have to wait." 

Picard held out the coat. Deanna stood and pulled off her wet sweater, allowing him to help her into the coat. She buttoned the coat, and ran her hand up the sleeve. 

"Will gave me this coat...for our trip to Valdez, three years ago. I nearly froze, it was so cold." She pulled the collar up and pulled sheepskin lined gloves from the pockets, then she coiled her hair and tucked it into a thick knitted cap she'd pulled from a hidden inside pocket. All that remained was her face, beneath the thick, rolled cuff of the hat. 

"You're not coming in then" 

"No, I'll be fine right here." Jean Luc handed her a mug of coffee and propped the thermos against the log... 

"Come in soon, Deanna. he wouldn't want you to become ill." 

Troi didn't respond, just sat down on the log and returned to her vigil. Picard patted her shoulder, turned and retraced his steps back to the house. In Deanna's mind...she whispered like a mantra.... 

"Imzadi, I need you. Please feel my thoughts. Imzadi, please come to me, I need you." She knew that of all of her closest friends, only Will would truly understand the pain she was feeling. 

The cold had penetrated deep into her bones...she'd hoped it would ease the pain of her mother's death. But it hadn't. Her mother was dead...gone...she knew that. Deanna's heart just couldn't accept what her mind had been screaming at her for days. So she'd locked the cold hard grief, deep inside, and kept it all bottled up tight. How could Beverly and the captain understand that the special place in her heart, that held her mother's spirit had been ripped open and left to bleed? Deanna had had a sense of her mother in her mind since she was born...and now there was nothing. Her Imzadi would know...he would come. 

Two hours later, inside the house...Beverly was asleep with her head on Jean Luc's lap, as he read a novel he'd found in Lwaxana's rather eclectic library. A brisk rapping on the front door, startled him, in turn waking Beverly. She sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, as Jean Luc crossed to answer the door. The door swung wide to reveal, Captain Will Riker. He was standing on the porch, soaking wet, wearing a coat similar to the one Picard had given to Deanna just hours ago. 

"Hello Captain, it's good to see you. I'm sorry I wasn't able to attend your wedding. Hello Beverly." Both of the Picard's stood staring for a brief moment, completely taken by surprise. Will peeled off his sodden coat and hung it on a peg behind the door. Beverly recovered first, and moved closer, tears filling her bright, blue eyes. Will drew her into his arms and hugged her warmly. 

"I so glad that you're here. I don't know how you managed it but, she needs you." Beverly whispered in Will's ear as they hugged. As they parted, she caught his sleeve. "Will I'm worried, she hasn't shed a tear." 

Riker's eyebrows rose, then fell as a look of understanding came over his features. With understanding came, pain. He paused and tried to clear his mind...he could feel her there...small, lost and hurting. 

Jean Luc put his hand on Beverly's arm, and drew her beside him.

"Will! How did you get here so quickly?" Picard shook his former exec's hand. "We sent a message. Lwaxana..." 

"Is dead. Yes I know, I was in contact with the Enterprise a few days ago... The Discovery is at Starbase 216 for repairs. Problems with her subspace emitters. I sensed, or rather, felt that Deanna needed me somehow and contacted the ship. Data told me the news. Where is she?" 

Beverly pointed behind her in the direction of the beach. Will looked up...to see Deanna standing in the doorway to the kitchen...dripping wet, her cheeks reddened by the wind, and her lips blue with cold, her eyes were wide; huge in her too pale face. 

"Will?" she whispered, walking slowly towards him, as he stepped towards her. "You came...you're really here." Her hands in their thick gloves smoothed the sweater over his shoulders, as if she needed to touch him to believe that he was there. 

Riker pulled at the buttons on her coat. 

"Let's get this wet coat off, you're frozen." Deanna didn't move as he unbuttoned the coat and slipped it from her shoulders. She stood transfixed as he pulled the hat from her head, allowing her hair to fall in a silken, midnight cloud about her face. The gloves followed the hat. Beverly took the wet clothing and left the room, taking Jean Luc with her. When they were alone, Will gently pulled Troi into his embrace, and wrapped his arms around her trembling body.

"I'm so sorry, Deanna. I wish I had been here sooner." 

Deanna's hands came up and clutched his sweater, she laid her head on his chest, suddenly exhausted. Pain, like knives settled in a vise around her heart. Will could almost see the waves of anguish flowing from her. If he knew Deanna, she had been managing away her emotions for days, apparently waiting for him. He had felt it, light-years away. He had sensed her need, as a psychic message in his subconscious mind. Once he had realized it for what it was, he'd had to come to her. When he'd contacted the Enterprise and Data had told him of Lwaxana's death. He'd known immediately that his instincts had been right. 

~~~~She's gone, my mother is dead. Deanna's voice whispered in his thoughts. 

"I know Dee...and I'm so sorry." Will's voice was husky with emotion. He felt Deanna trembling and guided her to the fireplace to warm her. She still hadn't spoken aloud, apart for the few sentences when he'd seen her in the door. He raised her face in both hands, meeting her pain filled eyes. 

Will bent and kissed her forehead... 

"Cry." 

The icy, hard shell that Deanna had built around her pain, had began to crumble. She pressed her face closer to him, trying to get closer to his chest. He felt so good, so strong, so calm. Deanna took a breath...it hurt, oh God! It hurt...but she still couldn't allow herself to express her grief. She began to shake, her small body trembling as her emotions began to overcome her rigid self control. She'd maintained her composure since her mother's death. 

"Deanna, sweetheart, let it go...don't hold it back. I'm here, I understand..." He had to strain to hear Deanna's response. 

"It hurts...so badly. I want to cry, I need to, but I can't. It hurts too much. I'm afraid that once I start, I won't be able to stop. Hold me, Imzadi! Please hold me!" Deanna's voice was hoarse and desperate. 

"I am holding you, and I won't let go until you ask me to." Will's heart clenched. She'd called him "Imzadi", a word that he'd thought he'd never hear again. All of the old feelings surged through him, and he knew. He had to face that fact that he still loved her; he could lie to others, but in his heart, he knew the truth. His instinctual feelings, the awareness of her in his mind, ran deep. He'd felt her pain, and it had brought him to her. Now, he had to find a way to let her know that he would always be there for her. That it was safe to vent her pain. 

Will held Deanna's trembling body closer still. He cleared his mind as she had taught him, focusing all of his thoughts and emotions on her. He was out of practice, and it was it was difficult. As his mind reached for hers, he felt her gently probing his mind. Will opened himself to her, staggering under the onslaught of her emotions. 

"Imzadi, yes, let me take your pain. Share it with me. I'm strong. Take my strength and my love. Let me help you. She loved you so, and wouldn't want to see her "Little One" in such pain." 

Deanna stiffened in his arms as she picked up his words in her mind. She began to shake harder, her breathing became short, harsh gasps, as her control faltered. Pain, hard edged and sharp, lanced through her chest, and through Will's as well. He steeled himself and held her, murmuring words of comfort, love and encouragement. In the next room, Beverly stood beside her husband, looking out at the sea, his arm around her shoulders. Beverly turned and started towards the living room, as a high pitched , keening wail emerged from the open door. When it ended, sobbing,loud and pain filled rent the air. Deanna was grieving at last. 

"No, Beverly, Will is with her. She waited for him. Let him be with her now." Beverly turned herself into his embrace and cried with her best friend; Jean Luc held his wife, tears in his eyes as well. 

Deanna fell asleep after crying for nearly two straight hours. In the midst of her tears, she had told Will that her mother had passed away in her sleep, and that she (Deanna), had been on the Bridge when it happened. Across the light-years that separated them, Deanna had felt her death as a physical blow, and had collapsed into the Captain's arms her scream of anguish filling the air. She'd kept repeating..."I wasn't here. I wasn't here. She died all alone." Will had guided her to the couch as she quieted. She now lay with her head on his shoulder, her body cuddled into his embrace. He looked up with a finger to his lips as Beverly and Jean Luc came back into the room. He took in Beverly's reddened eyes, and raised his own... 

"She waited for you Will. She knew you would come." Beverly shook her head..."I can't believe it." Will sighed and settled Deanna more comfortably across his lap. 

"Sometimes I don't understand it myself, Bev...but I know that I love her...I always have. When she wakes up, I'm going to tell her that she never has to be alone again." Jean Luc and Beverly looked at each other...and then at Will, who was looking down at Troi's grief ravaged face. Somehow everything would be fine. The healing would come, but until then, they'd just have to wait. 

Deanna Troi awoke the following morning, in her own bed. She was dressed in a long nightshirt, her feet in thick white socks. She sat up, disoriented, her eyes stinging and swollen from crying. It was a dream...all of it....just a dream. Sadness threatened to overwhelm her.

...and then Will opened the bedroom door, a breakfast tray in his hands...

"Good Morning, Imzadi." 

The End


End file.
